


The Summer of a Thousand Dreams

by sassy_curmudgeon



Category: Last of the Mohicans (1992)
Genre: American Indian, F/M, Falling In Love, Forever OTP, Historical, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Interracial Relationship, Native American Character(s), Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 06:18:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6107728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassy_curmudgeon/pseuds/sassy_curmudgeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A glimpse into what might have been. Hard T rating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: anything you recognize, I don't own. The original characters belong to James Fenimore Cooper, and Michael Mann. OCs are mine.
> 
> Taking a different approach, both writing wise and story telling. Hope you all enjoy this. Mostly canon (closer to the script) until the cliffs.

Alice Munro felt herself jerked forward as the canoe continued to hurdle dangerously nearer to the rapids, the same rapids that led to the sharp incline of the falls. The deadly falls.

_I am going to die._

Her stomach dropped so suddenly that, for several terrifying seconds, Alice thought they may have gone over the falls after all. She had a sudden vision of herself and her sister, eyes vacant, bloated, smashed against the wet rocks below.

Alice screamed in terror.

She felt her sister Cora's vice-like grip on her hand; she felt it but could not squeeze her fingers back in any show of solidarity.

_I am going to die in this god-forsaken, savage land._

Several minutes- or perhaps it was mere moments- later, the canoe was beached into the rough, sandy banks.

Shuffling quickly out along with the others, Alice was pulled and pushed, stumbling as she went. She listened to the voices of the men and their murmurs, trying in vain to focus on anything to keep her flagging hopes up.

Craning her head back, she watched as Nathaniel pushed their canoe off the embankment, his mouth set in a grim line. Along with the other one Duncan had just dispatched, it crashed through the rollicking waves, and fell through the falls.

Alice shivered. The canoes were splintered somewhere far below them- in watery graves.

* * *

The hours passed as slowly as a funereal procession, as slowly as dying every minute.

Everyone was soaked to the bone. The tempers had flared among the men, confined as they all were in this dank, dark place. Nathaniel and Duncan, two of the more hot-headed men Alice knew. It was steel meeting iron. A continual clash of dislike and jealousy. And now… now they were all backed into this hole in a mountain, arguing over powder and English military law.

Cora sobbed on the ground, her knees to her chest, her dark hair wild and fanning around her with the mist of the careening falls. Alice wanted to crawl to her sister, but something stopped her. She did not want to feel her sister's half-hearted hugs, nor listen to her words of comfort. She was only forcing herself to be brave for Alice. There was no point in denying her the truth. Let Cora have her pain.

Now, there was only terror.

It hung above them all, a dark fog.

He is coming. Her nightmare had a face. _The Huron._

Alice knew it; she knew it as well as she knew her own face, her name. Death was looming.

The cold was becoming unbearable. Alice stood shakily and began to walk towards one of the winding, dark turns of the labyrinthian cavern. She walked, and staggered, and walked, drawing her fingers against the walls as she went.

Very soon, she saw something that drew a lump in her throat.

_Stars._

The stars of the night sky shone as a beacon would, beckoning her closer. A thing of beauty in this horrid country.

Alice felt dazed as she crept closer to the shimmering starlight. She lifted a hand, palm outstretched, feeling the spray of the falls saturate her anew.

She wanted to get as close as possible… She was teetering on the edge….. she wanted to touch it. She wanted to-

_"Get back!"_

The air left her body, and Alice was falling back. Her stomach lurched at the sudden sensation.

She screamed and struggled against the embrace that enveloped her, arms clasped so tightly around her slight frame.

Uncas.

She realized it belatedly as his deep voice murmured her name. He pressed his warm lips to her brow with a tenderness that Alice had not expected. Sweeping her dripping hair from her face, he pulled her more securely against him, looking out to ascertain that she had not revealed their position.

_Uncas._

His strong body had a warmth that she so craved. She had felt it that night when they had hidden at the burial ground. Seeing her struggle to contain her fear, Uncas had quickly dropped his rifle and rolled her beneath him, one large hand covering her mouth. He had smelled of grass and pine trees.

"Miss Alice," Uncas whispered, his breathing soft, "go to your sister." He began to loosen his arms.

At this, Alice's eyes opened and she craned her head back to stare at his shadowed black eyes. She didn't want to leave his embrace. She felt safe. He always made her feel so safe.

"Uncas…" was her faint response. She held onto his soaked shirt even tighter, shaking her head. She didn't want to go back. She didn't want to have to face what was out there. She wanted to remain in his embrace for as long as she could.

He gently began to unwind her hands. She clung onto him even as he continually whispered that she must return to the others. _She must._

Without thinking, she brushed his hands aside and climbed onto him, her thighs around his hips.

His eyes widened. In the few short days that they had known each other, and despite all the dangers they had faced, this was the first time he looked startled.

It was not enough. Some impulse was guiding her actions, and all she could do was surrender herself to it.

Alice raised herself on his lap higher. She leveraged herself by placing her hands on his shoulders- her lips met his. Warm, inviting, seeking.

Uncas drew back, his eyes boring into hers. His resolve to send her back was still there, but it was his hands that betrayed him. His hands always did. Guiding her, helping her up, silencing her struggles; his hands betrayed his affection for an English girl. His hands now moved of their own accord around her slender waist, his thumbs roving-

He withdrew, his eyes contrite. He could not touch that which was not his.

Alice shivered. The horrific dread that had been building in her erupted. Suddenly her mind was careening. She let the fear wash over her. It erased everything from her memory, from her life. All she could see was him.

What happened next was so quick, and almost without reason. It was everything. It was her fear, her panic, her heartache. It was his hands, and his eyes, and his kindness.

She pressed herself against him in a frenzied motion, her knees contracting against his hips. She wanted more. She wanted to feel as much as she could. It was beyond thinking now.

Alice heard his breathing quicken. He looked down at his lap, his hands moving up slowly from her waist to her ribs.

It wasn't enough. She lifted her skirts.

The next several minutes were chaotic, a contrast of emotions- his carefulness with her unrestrained motions. She wanted to feel, and feel she did.

She felt the sharp sting that blossomed in her body, but which she ignored. She felt his tumescence and warmth and solidness filling her. As Alice whispered his name, she felt them both arching towards the other, his hipbones scraping hers, because they both must have felt the same sense of time running out.

Afterward, he held her against him, his breathing slowing to soft pants. She felt both of their fast beating hearts. She felt her descent back from her frenzied last few minutes. She was lightheaded, and with more than just fatigue.

Alice stiffened.

_What have I done?_

Uncas's hands steadied her, and he began to braid a section of her drenched, limp hair. They were still in the same position they had been. She hadn't moved since they had…had….

Wrenching free from his grasp, Alice stood quickly and, ignoring the man she had just laid with, made her way back to the others.

She could feel his gaze on her.

Alice resolved not to look at him again.

* * *

The blinding sun flashed unforgivably down upon the world. A mockery. There was no more beauty left, only death.

Alice was being dragged like a piece of baggage by the Huron braves, who followed their leader in a silent procession up the winding mountain. When she stumbled and fell, there was no helping hand. She was dragged upon the ground, scraping herself roughly, until she was able to right herself.

Her father was dead. Her sister was dead. The last she had seen of their saviors, they had leapt into the roaring falls of their hideaway, hundreds of feet in the air. She doubted their survival. She hoped her death would be swift, for she was tired of the world. She was seventeen years old, and she wished for eternal rest.

A crack rent the air. It was a sound Alice had become only too accustomed to.

What she did not expect was to see Uncas barreling toward them, his face set in grim determination.

_Uncas._

Her wide eyes scanned his appearance. He looked relatively unharmed, tough bloodied and bruised, his green shirt torn.

His eyes locked with hers. She could read it in his fierceness- _I will save you._

Uncas dispatched the Hurons easily, one after the other, until the fight came to an impasse when he clashed head-on with Magua; the brutality and skill of the older man was truly shocking.

Alice, in her daze, could see that Uncas was growing tired, and was being outmaneuvered. Magua's knife glinted menacingly in the sunlight, winking at her, as he hacked and sliced into the flesh of his younger opponent.

At one point, Uncas staggered back and peered down at the blood pouring from his abdomen, his eyes lit with surprise at his injuries. In his determination and rashness, he had not anticipated being injured. His eyes jerked up to lock on hers. There was a stunned sort of apology in them.

With a sudden leap, Uncas sprang at the Huron captain, using the last of his ebbing strength to knock the other man off balance, and both of them slammed and rolled onto the promontory.

There was a reckless desperation in every move that Uncas made, and Alice, having grown up around soldiers, knew that he was on the losing side. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears, hope dwindling.

The Huron stood up, his bearing erect, his knife pointed menacingly towards his prey. He made no move to attack the injured man, instead allowed him to stagger to his feet to attempt one last assault.

He was losing. He would die, and with him would go her chance at salvation.

After standing, Uncas made one final lunge, which the Huron easily deflected. Just as quickly, facing him, Magua drove his blade into Uncas' side, causing him to cry out in pain as he tried to twist his body around.

Alice could no longer bear it. Squeezing her eyes shut, she turned away. _Coward till the end._

The brave that gripped her arm suddenly squeezed her so tight that she gave a pained gasp. He released her and reached for his tomahawk. Alice was briefly jostled by the other braves as they, too, reached for their weapons. She flattened herself against the mountain wall.

_What?-_

The world exploded in a volley of rifle shots. The world seemed to tilt for the young English girl, and she grasped the rocks behind her in a mindless panic.

Chingachgook. He ran past them all in a blur of colors, lifting his war club, and gave a frightful war cry that rose to the heavens. He met Magua head-on, who turned to face this new opponent, dropping the limp body of Uncas onto the ground.

Nathaniel was not long in arriving, mere seconds, and he raised a rifle in each hand, shooting down his targets easily. Two Huron men contorted in the air and fell like rag dolls.

Magua knew that the circumstances had changed away from his advantage. His lips curled in a snarl as he attacked Chingachgook, and was blocked at every turn.

It was over with startling precision. Chingachgook spun, and caved the other man's back and spine in with his gunstock club. The crack his broken body made was as loud as a musket shot.

Alice, numb from shock and pain, looked around at the sudden silence. Dead men littered her line of vision.

Nathaniel and his father quickly knelt before an unconscious Uncas, assessing his injuries, carefully feeling his pulse. It must have looked grim, for Nathaniel's eyes were unnerved.

Alice took a single, faltering step towards Uncas, when she was almost knocked down with the force of her sister's embrace. She was stunned at her sudden appearance.

"Alice!"

Her sister was alive. Her dear sister. That was all that mattered.

Alice drew back from Uncas, unsure of anything now. Her heart beat fast at the sight of her would-be savior's injuries. Should she….

Cora clung to her tighter.

"It is over," she whispered to her younger sister.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a few weeks after the cliffs when Alice's tilted world began to slowly right itself.

Try as she might, she had not been able to remember the somber days right after her ordeal had ended. It had all been a blur. She did not even quite remember leaving the side of the mountain. When she had asked Cora if she had been carried, her sister replied that no, she had walked on her own, trailing after the others that had held Uncas aloft in a make-shift litter.

Currently, their situation was much improved. They had returned to New York colony without much further incident, other than the gravely wounded Uncas.

She was starting to recall much more on how Uncas had survived. Chingachgook had presented her stalwart sister with reedy bone needles that he always carried, and she had immediately tended to Uncas, assisted by the men. The sutures hadn't been catgut. They were something else, something much more sinewy. They had made splints for him out of cider and birch and leaves. More impressively was how they had managed to stop some of the hemorrhaging. Stones. Stones heated until they were lit red were placed over Uncas's wounds.

For days his fever had raged, and for that the men had prayed hard in their tongue, while dousing him in water and making boiled concoctions of herbs and tree bark to work down his throat.

Alice had been useless. She hated the sight of blood, and she trembled when she was not near her sister. Cora, for her part, had done little more than fuss over her when she was not tending to Uncas. Nathaniel had seemed exasperated by this, though he had strove to hide it.

But that was over with. Once Uncas was out of danger, they had been able to leave their forest camp.

For days they had traveled, and during the nights they rested. The summer nights were thick, saccharine, warm in the Americas. Their respite had turned bittersweet as they'd returned to the frontier homesteads, many of which had been burned or abandoned. One of them caught their attention as it appeared uninhabited, though it had been ransacked by parties unknown. Alice was able to understand that the owners of the farm were missing. Whether they had died or fled remained unexplained. The men decided that, for the time being, this was where they would remain.

The Driessen farm not overly large, nor well-equipped. Not any longer, in the very least, now that it had been looted so appallingly. Alice felt distinctly ill at ease to be trespassing upon the home of other people. Then she recalled the carnage at the Cameron's farm and decided this was infinitely better than being greeted by corpses.

Presently, it was a warm summer day, and Alice had finished her chores. She had washed the household members' clothes until her hands were red and sore, and hung them up besides the linen to dry. She wished she could wash her torn and dirtied dress as she knew she looked as a hoyden would, but that discomfort would have to wait.

Alice sat on the shadowed hayloft of the barn, slowly swinging her legs. She had not been idle, she knew this, but since she had arrived at the Driessen farm, she had felt increasingly isolated from the others. She had been unable to look at Uncas, who had slept by the fire, tended to night and day by the others.

She supposed she was embarrassed. She had behaved in a most outrageous and shameless manner. She had flung herself at a man and laid with him on the ground, like a common strumpet. It was so humiliating. What if he told his brother? And Nathaniel told Cora?

_I will die of shame!_

For this reason, Alice found herself shrinking from everyone else. She woke early and did her chores as her sister instructed, but with no real joy or satisfaction. She washed and scrubbed and did her best to cook, but had to be prompted.

Nathaniel's pique had changed, becoming more of a amused puzzlement and brusque kindness. Alice was starting to realize that Nathaniel did not, in fact, dislike her. Rather he was concerned about Cora not taking care of her own self.

Cora had always been solicitous of her younger sister's sentiments and welfare. These past few weeks, however, she had taken an extreme approach. She had become Alice's shadow, and spent far too much time telling her to rest, and checking her pulse, telling her to eat….

As if she were the one that had nearly died.

Uncas had been slowly recuperating for weeks. She had not had the nerves to sit by him. She was too embarrassed.

Alice drew her legs up to her chest as she recalled yesterday's incident.

_Nathaniel called her over to the table where they had been partaking of their suppers since arriving. He motioned her to sit with a hand that clutched a chunk of bread. Nodding in greeting, he stuffed the bread into his mouth and chewed leisurely, tossing her an amused smirk._

_"Hungry, Alice?"_

_She nodded quickly, sitting besides Cora that was ladling stew into her bowl._

_As the others tucked in, Alice looked around quickly. Uncas was not well enough yet to walk, and she had not seen much of him, under strict orders as he was (by his father) to not move from his place by the fire._

_"Uncas!" called out a startled Cora, "how are you feeling? Be seated, I will serve you. Supper is plentiful tonight."_

_Alice flinched sharply, dribbling water down her chin from the tankard she was drinking._

_"Thank you," came Uncas's low voice. He limped over to them with a nod of greeting, before seating himself on the bench beside his brother, and across from Alice._

_Alice felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment. Beneath it all, however, was a hint of shame that she had not visited Uncas once during his repose in his sick bed. She should have thanked him for saving her life._

_Alice took smaller sips of water as she watched the men speak to each other in their tongue. Peeking her eyes up, Alice watched as Uncas's large hand closed around the bottom of an earthenware bowl, his long fingers flexing. She sipped too much all of a sudden, and Alice was seized with a coughing fit. Cora rubbed her back in soothing circles._

_"Alright?" came Uncas's deep tones, his black eyes trained on her._

_"Y-yes," she wheezed, eyes streaming. "Forgive me."_

_Their eyes met, and she could see the concern swirling in their depths._

_Alice was sudden overcome with acute self-consciousness. They were all staring at her in silence._

_Her gaze flicked to Chingachgook, who was whittling a carving. His own gaze was solemn, unsmiling._

_Why were they staring at her? Did they know?_

_Rising quickly, Alice dipped into a curtsy and, ignoring Nathaniel's grunt of amusement, headed outdoors._

_"Where is she going?" Cora's worried whisper carried in the breeze._

_"Probably the barn," Nathaniel muttered, "pass the bread."_

_Alice could already see the smirk on his face, his blue eyes cynical._

Well, that was yesterday, Alice thought bracingly. She figured it was best to lay low until she could figure out what to do. She loathed to think of leaving her dear sister, but more and more the idea arose in her mind—

Return to England, where she belonged.

The hayloft she was in smelled slightly of animal manure and a wet, cloying scent that hung over every nook. The hay was dry and coarse stemmed. Still, any chance she had, Alice welcomed the isolation. She would climb the rickety ladder and curl into the piles of hay. It made her drowsy, and she had been feeling unusually lethargic as of late.

Lifting her hands, Alice gently grasped a section of hair on the right side of her face, and began to idly twist the golden strands into a braid.

So consumed was she in her daydreaming that Alice scarcely noticed the shadow that suddenly blotted out the sun.

She stopped with a gasp at the sound of a familiar voice.

"Miss Alice."

She took a deep breath and prayed for composure. "Uncas! How are you faring?"

He dipped his head, the sunlight gleaming on his dark tresses. He walked inside the barn, glancing around. "I thought I'd find you here."

Alice tried to smooth her hair unobtrusively, wincing as she found several thick stalks of the grass-hay in her hair.

She cleared her throat. "May I be of any assistance?"

Uncas crept soundlessly to the ladder and planted his hands on the sides bracingly. He felt the wooden beams and cocked his head. "Be careful. Ladder needs mending."

"Thank you," she whispered, relaxing her legs enough to tuck them under her dress.

"Welcome."

"No, thank you, truly… for… everything. For saving my life. At the cliffs."

Alice could barely see his eyes in the dusty darkness, yet she could sense the intensity in them.

Looking at him again, Alice realized he was studying her half-finished braid. The moments stretched on interminably, until he grunted and looked out of the barn.

"Your sister asked me to find you."

"Why?"

"She doesn't want you to stray far."

Alice sniffed delicately. "I am never far. I like it here."

Uncas's lips curved infinitesimally into a ghost of a smile. "I know you like it. Still. You need sunlight. You look unwell."

"I'm just tired," whispered Alice, "I… do not sleep well."

"Come with me."

She felt a thrill of nervousness. "Where to?"

"River. I'm going to catch our supper tonight. You can help."

Catch supper, indeed! Ladies did not hunt or fish. But… she did want to carry her weight around as much as the others. And Uncas looked well enough, but perhaps he shouldn't strain himself…

Alive nodded stoutly. Shimmying her way to the ladder, Alice smoothed her skirts and began her careful descent. She hoped he would give her a wide berth, as she could not be certain her ankles were showing.

After hopping lightly onto the ground, she noticed with satisfaction that he had adhered to her mental wishes and was waiting outside, his posture relaxed. There were a spear and a net near his feet.

"Ready?" he inquired. She eyed his tribal tattoos peeking out of his blue shirt. Their eyes met.

"I am ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filler chapter, mainly.


	3. Chapter 3

Alice sat on the banks of the river, eyeing the frothing water wistfully. She yearned for a bath. They were few and far in between now. In the very least, she longed to dip her feet into the current. It would be heavenly to feel the coolness of water on her heated skin.

 Uncas was standing in the middle of the stream, motionless, holding aloft a crudely assembled wooden spear that ended in three intimidatingly sharp tips. He was so still that he reminded Alice of antiquated statues and busts of yore. He had been standing still in the stream for several minutes.

 "You can dip your legs."

 He said this so suddenly that Alice's head snapped up, perplexed. His back had been to her since he first stepped into the water, and she had not spoken… hadn't she? How could he know what she was thinking?

 Alice cleared her throat delicately. "I thank you, sir, for the suggestion, but I am afraid I cannot do such a thing."

 Uncas lowered the spear a fraction and turned to face her, askance.

 "Why?" he asked plainly.

 Alice spoke without thinking. "It is most improper for a gentleman to see a lady's ankles and— and—"

 Uncas's sharp, dark brow arched with a hint of incredulity.

 There was an awkward silence.

 Alice felt tears of humiliation well in her eyes, and she tried valiantly to keep them at bay. She had managed to not think of her rash tryst with the young warrior for a short while, and now memories of her wayward actions raced to the forefront of her weary mind.

  _Shame. Disgrace._

 Uncas cocked his head to the side, and his black eyes were suffused with caution and compassion. And something warmer— he looked at her with longing.

 The look shared between the two caused something to lurch in Alice's belly. It was a traitorous sensation to Alice, as she knew it was the hidden hint of desire she herself had felt for Uncas since the night at the burial ground, when he had wrapped her in his strong arms.

 Uncas's voice was gentle as he spoke to her, "You- we- did nothing wrong, Miss Alice."

 Alice covered her face with her hands, feeling her countenance burning.

 "Please!"

 She sensed rather than saw him slowly approach her and she buried her face deeper into her fingers, shaking her head quickly.

 He stopped.

 Alice looked up and met his gaze timidly. His look was still strong and proud, and he met her scrutiny unflinchingly. As usual his concern for her shone more strongly than anything else.

 "Please… do not tell anyone."

 "What?" Uncas asked, looking genuinely confused.

 "Do not tell my sister what I did. Or your brother. Please!"

 Uncas shook his head. "It was between us."

 Alice smiled tremulously, almost sagging with relief. She knew he was honorable and honest. He would not reveal her scandalous actions.

 He gave her a hint of a smile back, turning back to walk into the stream, his grip sure on his spear. He resumed his silent, still stance.

 Alice drew her long legs and knees up to her chest. She felt slightly better. What had happened would stay a secret, and nobody important would ever find out.

 "Why do you stand so still?" she asked, thinking of the fishermen she had always seen during her life, with large nets, and sturdy lines.

 He did not turn around. "Make the fish think I'm one of them."

 Alice giggled. Again, she could sense him without seeing him. She sensed his smile.

 A few more minutes passed, and Alice was growing disinterested. Fishing really was a dreary business. She wished she had her drawing pencils, or a book of poetry. Even her embroidery.

 In London there had been so much available to her, the well-bred daughter of an aristocratic army colonel. Here, besides her chores, there was not much to do. At least the scenery was beautiful. Alice shaded her eyes with a sigh and glanced around at the vivid greens and blues of her surroundings. She glanced at Uncas's solid back and shoulder, and could see the lines of his muscles though his calico shirt.

 The scenery was, truly, very appealing.

 "Want to come in?" Uncas asked gamely.

 Alice was startled out of her thoughts at this.

 "In… into the river?

 "Yes," he said simply.

 What a preposterous idea! Alice opened her mouth to reply in the negative when Uncas suddenly shot his arm down, so quickly that it was all a blur. Pulling the spear up and aloft, he examined the silver fish that wriggled helplessly. Gently, he pulled the creature out and looked at the bank where she was sitting.

 "Are we done?" Alice asked hopefully.

 Uncas shook his head. "One fish won't feed five people."

 "Oh," she murmured, looking at the parched grass. Of course.

 Walking forward, Uncas gently placed the fish on the grass by her. Alice grimaced at it's milky dead eyes and gaping little mouth.

 Some time later, Uncas had caught and skewered several more fish. Alice, acting upon instructions from Uncas, had retrieved a basket from the cabin and was busy washing them.

 Uncas crouched on his haunches by her. "Can you cut them?"

 Alice faltered. "I have never done so, no."

 He grunted. "You can help."

 He brought forth a small but very sharp little dagger from his belt and quickly cut the fish's head off, then it's tail, and then slit it from cleanly in half, removing the delicate bones. Uncas passed her the knife and Alice balked, tugging on her hair and fidgeting.

 Normally, if Nathaniel were present he would sigh exasperatedly, or Cora would send her inside with her motherly concern.

 Uncas continually surprised her with his patience. Even now, he nodded and proceeded quickly to cut the rest of the fish himself, placing them into the woven basket.

 Alice felt the need to defend herself for some reason.

 "I… I will cook it. I will make it into stew."

 "Alright," Uncas replied, his eyes intent on his handiwork. "There's an easier way. Could show you if you want. Later."

 "Which way is that?" asked Alice curiously.

 "Earth oven."

 That was all he said, and Alice mulled over the phrase. She had never heard of such a thing.

 He glanced up suddenly, his eyes intent. "The caves. Don't feel bad. You did nothing wrong."

 Alice cursed her weakness as tears rose again. "I behaved worse than a… a…"

 "No. Never," he raised a calloused thumb and wiped a stray tear, "It was my fault."

 Alice looked at him, confused. "Why ever was it your fault?"

 He looked troubled. "You are the young one. The innocent one."

 Alice was taken aback. What he said did not correlate with what she had always been told of men's carnal appetites and women's wanton behavior. If a woman behaved as she had, the blame was only hers.

 He turned his hand to her face, and stroked her partially unraveled braid. His touch befuddled her anew, as it was almost a catharsis to her pain.

 Alice drew back, awkwardly wiping at her teeming eyes. "Forgive me," she murmured, "I fear I have been a watering pot these last few days." She gave a weak laugh at her jest.

 "It's alright," he replied. He rose to his feet. "Coming?"

 Alice shook her head. "I will return shortly."

 Uncas nodded his acceptance, hefted the basket, spear, and net up, and turned to walk back to the cabin.

 Alice waited until his form disappeared, then glanced uncertainly around for several moments, listening intently. Satisfied, she surreptitiously drew her skirts up slowly, inch my inch, and removed her long, dirtied stockings. She wriggled her way clumsily on her backside, internally horrified yet determined, until her toes and ankles and calves made contact with the water.

 Alice shivered at the cold. Yet it felt _heavenly._

 With a contented sigh, Alice dumped her stockings into the water for a scrub, and splashed the cool water onto her face and hair.

 She was content, she realized. Not happy. Not joyful. But she was satisfied with her life as it was now, with no enemies hunting she and her sister down, and the agony of a lost friend and father beginning to heal. Uncas had promised to guard their secret, and soon she would begin to make plans to return to Europe.

* * *

 The month of September was coming to a close.

 Alice scanned the newspaper intently by the light of the flickering candle. The Courant was a rag of a newspaper that somehow made it's way up from New England; it was more renowned for slandering the local governors than actually spreading news of import, but Alice was not interested in such gossip. She was looking for the dates of departure of the ships docked in New York colony. The paper was dated a month or so before, and the last ship, one named Agamemnon, had departed the previous week.

  _Bloody hell._

 So far her plan was to find a ship that would sail to London, ask one of the men to escort her to whichever dock, and then prevail upon the ship's captain to allow her passage. She would pay her passage once she was back on English soil. Once it became known she was a lady, they would help her, of course. As such Alice eagerly asked anyone she would encounter in town for a spare newspaper. Even disreputable ones such as _The Tattler_ \- they were more popular and the printers could not churn them out fast enough.

 Tossing _The Courant_ aside, Alice sighed heavily and thumbed through _The Gazette_. Nothing. She then glanced at _Poor Richard's Almanack_ in mute frustration. The author was a rather clever fellow, but it was filled with farming techniques and nonsense regarding astrology calculations, as well as weather predictions.

 "Come to bed, sister," came Cora's sleepy command from the cot they shared. Cora was not entirely certain of what Alice had planned, but Alice knew she suspected something. Alice would murmur something prosaic, or change the subject, when questioned. Cora would fret and plead with her to stay.

 Alice sat straighter in the flickering firelight, her face contorting as her belly churned. There it was again, the sickness that had been plaguing her for weeks now. She could not eat, nor sleep, and would retch outside by the outhouse. For this reason she would prefer to sleep in the hayloft of the barn, a fact that horrified Cora to no end.

 Rising carefully, Alice tiptoed to the door, opened it, and stepped nimbly out into the pale moonlight. The next second, however, she was sprinting away from the cabin towards the trees. She fell in an inelegant heap, scraping her knees painfully on a sharp rock or root. Alice shakily brushed her hair back as she vomited.

 For several moments afterward, Alice thought with a wryness quite unlike her that if her relations in England and Scotland could see her now, they would not believe it was her. Perhaps they would think poor young Miss Alice Munro had been snatched by the wee fairy folk, who had then left a changeling in her stead. What _would_ they say, seeing her now so downtrodden, dirty, her fingers toughened by washing and other drudgery, sitting in her vomit?

 A heavy hand firmly yet gently gripped her shoulder. 

  _Uncas_ , she thought in dismay. She usually made sure to do this business of being sick on her own. He was out hunting with his brother, had he returned?…

 Turning around, Alice started in surprise. "Chingachgook!" she whispered.

 His deep black eyes were on her as he drew her up, then he placed a weathered hand on her elbow. Alice did not know the older Mohican man could be so amiable. He did not speak much to her, and rarely smiled.

 "You have been sick for days," he commented. "I will make you a tea."

 "Tea?" she asked delicately, remembering the foul smelling concoctions the three men would conjure of herbs and roots. Cora had drank some of the willow bark tree for her headaches, and said it had helped immensely. For this alone, Alice relented.

 "I suppose it is from a tree bark of some sort?" she inquired tiredly.

 Chingachgook nodded shortly as he led her towards the cabin.

 "Beech tree."

 "Of course. Thank you, sir."

 He made no reply.

 Both were silent as they entered the cabin, and he set about boiling water over the fire. Cora was asleep, and with his sons gone hunting, it was just the two of them awake.

 A few minutes later he was pushing a wooden bowl towards her. "Drink."

 Alice complied immediately, holding her breath as she downed the contents swiftly. She shuddered; it was a pity there was no sugar to be had.

 "Too fast," he reprimanded. Alice glanced across the rough table. Their eyes met in the firelight. "Sip."

 Bowl after bowl she drank at his direction, and she realized she did feel marginally better. Her stomach did not protest at the taste.

 The next day, right after dawn, Nathaniel and Uncas returned from their hunting trip, and silently entered the cabin. They were met by a peculiar sight— Alice Munro, fast asleep at the table, a bear hide thrown over her small frame; and their father awake and alert across from her.

 The early autumn day began to dawn outside the cabin, and there was much work to do.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never named my chapters, but if I did, this one I would call "Scars."

"I beg ye pardon, Miss?" the burly sea captain asked incredulously; his hand had stilled in the act of reaching for his tankard of ale.

Alice's spirits began to sink.

It was a crisp, early afternoon, and Alice had accompanied a harried Nathaniel (who had not wanted to take her along) a few hours' walk to town to trade pelts for silver. In truth, Alice referred to it as "going to town" when, in reality, it was more a motley gathering near the wharf, of colonials selling their wares. There were also traders, Indians, and the like. It was quite an incongruous mixture, she thought, momentarily distracted by a tall, well-shaped woman with rouged cheeks and a cheerful disposition. Her bosom was far too exposed.

_A... lady of the night?_

Alice forced herself to focus on the task at hand- although admittedly, it was not going well.

She smiled brightly, for she had always been told her smile was most pretty.

"I cannot pay for my passage on your ship at the moment, but I entreat you to understand my situation. Upon my honor, once we arrive back in London, I will pay for my passage and then some."

The hoary man gave a crooked smile. "Lass, it simple isn't done."

"I have no funds of my own."

"Then there's the rub. For you, at least. No money, no passage."

Alice sat straighter. "I have some paper money from the sale of my bracelet..."

"Ah!" he shook his shaggy, unshaven head. His dark blue eyes were cynical. "Paper money ain't worth the paper it's printed on, if it only stays in New York colony. T'aint useful to a sea captain. British pounds and shillings alone, Miss."

Alice felt a stab of pain in her heart upon hearing those words. That bracelet had been a gift from her father for her 16th birthday. She had not received much for it, a mere pittance, and it had been such a fine piece of jewelry.

"I just want to go home. I want to forget about what has happened here to my family. To me."

Alice blinked and stared down at her clasped hands, embarrassed at her candor. It was the truth, however. Nathaniel and Cora were soon to be wed, and where would that leave her? The unwanted, unmarried relative. The burden. Her sister would be a wife. Her life was ready to begin anew. And Alice was left with a shattered world to rebuild. England and Scotland were her home, her safety, her beacon in the night. She should be there, not groveling before a lowly sea captain and his ilk in this filthy wharf.

Glancing up, she realized Captain Eccles was concentrating on the marks on her wrists. The deep cuts where the ropes had rubbed her skin raw and bloody. Her flesh had healed but the scars remained.

The man sighed and shook his head, taking a long swig of ale. Her own drink stood forgotten, as her belly still rebelled at the smell of the watered down libation.

"I suppose I could allow ye passage," he said after a moment, thunking his drink down and wiping his mouth. Alice's eyes widened. "I will allow ye passage on the _Speedwel_ l if ye pay me at least ha' before boarding, and the rest when we arrive at London."

Alice chewed her bottom lip, a seemingly resurrected nervous habit she had lost- or so she though- thanks to etiquette lessons and stern governesses. Where would she get British pounds sterling? But he had already reduced the price for her, and she felt she would do anything to reach civilization.

"When does the _Speedwell_ leave Albany?" she asked, scanning his face quickly.

"November 8th. After the Sabbath."

Alice nodded to herself. Taking a shaking breath, she brushed a strand of sun-bleached hair from her face and smiled.

"Do ye agree to the terms, Miss?"

"I do."

"Do ye understand my ship is not meant for luxury? It's a cargo ship that I sometimes take passengers in, indentured servants and the like."

"Yes."

He continued to press her. "Do ye? No doubt ye arrived here in a ship much more, ah, spacious?" He paused, awaiting an answer.

" _The Mary Constant_ ," Alice replied weakly, thumbing the frayed hem of her old cream-colored dress.

He snorted with amused disdain. The _Mary Constan_ t was a renowned ship of the line, known for carrying high-bred passengers and aristocrats.

"Well, lass, this ain't no _Susan Constan_ t."

" _Mary Constant_ , sir."

"Right." He belched loudly, and Alice winced at his poor manners.

"If ye sail with me, my passengers and crew, it'd be best if ye understood what it would be like. Ye will share a cabin with others. Many others. No fresh food. Brackish water. The folks who will be yer cabin-mates... well, mayhap they will be from the stews. Port doxies and the like."

"I am perfectly aware, Captain Eccles." Alice huffed this with as much dignity as she could muster.

"Don't mean to imply that ye don't know B from a bull's foot," he replied in what he surely thought was a genial tone. "Just want to make sure ye understand the reality, is all. On ships diseases have no where to go but on the people. Pestilences and louse. Blood and 'ounds, Miss. It can be right dangerous, and ye chose an inconvenient time of the year to travel. 'urricanes and gales, lass."

Alice was having trouble deciphering his shipyard cant, and was also beginning to become unnerved. She refused to bow down to this fear.

"Do we have an agreement, sir?" she asked smoothly, extending a pale hand to the man across from her. They shook hands, and the captain's gaze slid to somewhere beyond Alice.

"That Jack 'o legs your man, by any chance?" he asked gruffly, drinking more ale. Alice craned her neck back and saw Nathaniel who stood motionless, eyes narrowed, assessing the scene before him.

"My... er... kinsman," she whispered, standing quickly, "I will meet you at the harbor on November the 8th, sir."

"Noon," he grunted, pushing his tricorn hat back to mop his damp brow.

"Yes, sir. And... discretion if you please, sir."

Captain Eccles shrugged. "And do not forget our terms, lassie! Half then, half later."

Alice nodded and sprinted to where Nathaniel stood.

Smiling winsomely, Alice tugged her shawl around her neck. "Are we leaving, Nathaniel?"

Nathaniel eyed her sharply. "Are you done sneakin' about, Alice?"

She blinked and affected a confused air. "I came to purchase hair ribbons-"

"Which you haven't done," Nathaniel eyed her empty hands dubiously, "I told you we were here to trade pelts, not waste time."

His words stung. Alice swallowed thickly and arched a brow. "I assure you, I had a most productive morning," she retorted, then brushed by him to make her way to the path. He stared down the path after her, worried.

* * *

Days later Alice was feeling melancholic as she hung up the laundry to dry on the lines. What would happen once it became too cold, she wondered. Would the inhabitants have to wash and dry clothing in the cabin? What would happen if the original cabin owners or their relatives came by, and tossed Cora and her new family from this place? Alice did not want to think on it. She was beginning to feel very somber at the thought of leaving her only sister behind. Cora had left her many times over the years. Except now it was _she_ that was leaving, it was _she_ that was going to take a leap into the unknown void.

So why did she feel so badly about it?

Alice sighed and craned her neck up. According to Chingachgook, they were in the final sun drenched days before the autumn came. She loved the colors of the colonies. There were so many greens! She hadn't seen such beauty since she had left Inverness years before. The leaves were beginning to turn yellow.

Rubbing her sore hands together, Alice decided to sit by the river now that her chores were finished.

The walk there was brief, and she admired the water as she sat. She liked to sit still and pretend she was ripple in the glinting water. There she was minutes later, perfectly immobile, when Uncas crept soundlessly up to her.

"Miss Alice."

His deep, low voice came as a shock to her. Alice jumped in fright.

"Sorry, miss."

Alice laughed nervously.

"It's alright, Uncas." She suddenly realized that he had always addressed her formally than his family. Even his father referred to her as "moon-hair" and "girl."

"You don't have to call me Miss Alice. Just Alice on it's own. We are beyond formalities by now."

Uncas sat carefully beside her, though not too close. He said nothing for several minutes, instead concentrated on his thoughts and on the flowing water.

"You will be leaving."

It was not a command, but not exactly a question. Alice stared at him, eyes wide.

"I beg your pardon, Uncas?"

His eyes cut to her. "You are planning to leave us. Go to Albany and cross the sea."

Alice looked down at her hands. "How did you find out?"

"Nathaniel."

That was all he said, and Alice felt as though a heavy stone was in her belly. She felt like crying. She felt _guilty_.

"Alice," he said after a moment, reaching over and twining their fingers together. Her face reddened. "Alice. You have been sick. Stay until you are well."

"I.. I cannot," she whispered, tugging on her limp hair.

"Why?"

How could she explain what she herself could scarcely understand? She did not belong here. Nobody truly thought she could survive the wilderness, it was a miracle she had even made it this long, and...

"If I do not leave soon, I fear I will not leave at all."

"You could stay."

She signed heavily. "With my sister and Nathaniel?"

"No. With me."

Alice looked up quickly. There was no hesitation in his voice, or in his black eyes. His beautiful black eyes that always shone so warmly when looking at her. As if there was nobody else he desired to look upon. His steadfast certainty had always intrigued her, but now she felt overwhelmed. She felt as if her very heart were expanding. Alice was breathless with it.

She glanced down at the scars on his arms, remnants of his fight with Magua. It was a sobering sight.

"How long?"

His thumb stroked it's way between her thumb and forefinger. "As long as you want."

"I meant... how long until you begin to grow dissatisfied with me?"

"I-"

"I cannot do anything useful. I am not built for hard work. I cannot skin an animal, it horrifies me. I can barely cook- Uncas, I would be a burden. To you, and the others. Your brother barely tolerates me and only to keep in my sister's good graces, I am certain."

Uncas looked genuinely confused. "My brother cares for you. Perhaps his manner is not what you are use to. We are hunters and traders. Rough people."

"You are not rough," she retorted. No, he was nothing like Nathaniel, like their silent father.

His eyes softened. He seemed to struggle with what to say next, before sighing and turning his attention back to the bubbling river.

"You are sure? You will leave us?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"The 8th of November." She quickly told him what she and Captain Eccles had discussed in terms of payment, and Uncas told her he would help pay for her passage, brushing aside her embarrassed stammers.

"Uncas, why would you do this?"

"I will if it makes you happy. To return."

"And you all? Where will you go?" she asked, concerned, her earlier misgivings rising.

"West of the Hudson. We will winter in the Ohio Valley. My brother and your sister will marry. Build a home."

"And yourself? Your father?"

"We will spend the winter with my Delaware brethren."

"Why?"

His grip on her slender hand tightened. Alice's heart beat faster as several thoughts faced through her mind. He would be lost to her forever, she knew.

"You will wed?"

Instead of answering, he gently withdrew his hand and, leaning over slightly, began to braid her hair.

* * *

That night Alice could not sleep. She missed the solitude of the hayloft, the sliver of the moon and the stars that shone through the small cracks in roof and wall. Sometimes when she was able to steal away, she would hear the howling of wolves in the distance, but only on certain nights. In an odd way, Alice felt she could identify with the wolves. Their howling was lonesome. As if they wanted something with all their hearts.

Another reason Alice was unable to find slumber was she was trying to remember the name of a young maid that had been employed in her home in London years before. She could not stop thinking of her. Martha, though she was known as Mattie. She had been a housemaid, a smiling, cheeky girl that doted on Alice, kissed her goodnight, and told her stories. She had called her little charge "Elsie." At least, that was what Alice chose to remember about her. She had dallied with the wrong man and found herself with a rather pressing need for a husband, as they said. She had been turned out by the housekeeper as she started to expand. Alice had wept as Mattie left for the final time.

Turning onto her side gingerly, Alice winced. Her body had been peculiarly sore for weeks. Alice normally slept curled onto her side, but that was near impossible now. She could only sleep on her back, which she disliked immensely. Her bosom and belly were tender. She was sick more often than not.

Sick, and tired, and sore.

 _Like Mattie was_.

* * *

Alice hurried into town the next morning, gasping from a painful stitch on her side. She had left before dawn, making such a quick dash that she scarcely watched where her feet landed. Nathaniel had been awake and inquired where she was going, but she had only mumbled "barn," distractedly.

_Out. Away. I will run away from you all._

Her heart was beating fast and erratic- every few minutes it would lurch uncomfortably, as if it would fly out of her chest.

The day was overcast and very cool, foretelling rain in the coming days. She did not tarry. Looking around, she spotted an attractive older woman she had noticed once or twice. Women came and went into her oilskin tarp, or bought medicine and herbs from her. She was... a midwife?

Alice approached her and spoke directly and without preamble.

"I need to know why I am so ill."

The woman gave a toothy smile, her red hair glinting in the early morning dew. "Oh, aye? My name is Nell. Can you pay?"

Alice nodded, and showed her the paper money she had, to which the taller woman nodded her towards the tarp. She instructed Alice to lie down on her back. It was very dark. Alice did as she was told, though she felt distinctly ill at ease. For the next quarter of an hour, she was poked and prodded and asked questions of a very personal nature.

"When did you last have your courses?"

"I do not remember. I was in Albany, so I suppose it was in July."

After several more questions, she was told to sit up.

"You are with child, miss."

Alice squeezed her eyes shut. She felt she would faint. She wanted to die. Her life was over. She was _ruined._

The woman continued, as she gathered some herbs and plants together and made a small pack for Alice.

"Two months or so? Have a word with your mother, if you can. Tis only natural to be frightened the first time."

"I have no mother," Alice whispered bitterly, her head hanging low, the first of the stinging tears seeping through her lashes.

The other woman paused.

"No man?"

Alice did not know how to answer that. "N-no. No man."

The woman sighed and shook her head. "Well, stand up, little miss. I have a pack for you."

Alice wiped her eyes and listlessly took what the older woman offered. Mostly it was medicine for her nausea, but the last few items took her aback.

"What?" she whispered, wiping her eyes.

"Take the willow bark and motherwort in a tea. Drink three times a day. If nothing happens after three days, you must stop taking it immediately. Do you understand?"

Alice did not, not truly. "What is suppose to happen in three days time?"

"Why, it will bring about your flux, of course."

"My flux? I thought..."

"It will stop the pregnancy. But too much can be dangerous. Just three times a day for three days. You will bleed and then be right as rain. Is this not what you want?"

She made no reply.

Alice stepped out of the shabby tarp, cold and numb, her pack safely bundled in her dress. Her hands felt like ice, and were shaking. The strange woman, Nell, had refused her payment, instead wishing Alice well.

This time she took her time walking back to the cabin, arriving around midday. She almost never wept, not even when her father died. Yet every few minutes her body shook as hot tears poured out. She was in extremis.

Rounding the corner towards the cabin, Alice's senses were assaulted.

" _Alice!_ " Cora screamed, pulling her into a hug, but Alice side-stepped her. She vaguely noticed Cora's face taut with fear and relief, her light-colored blouse and skirt swaying in the breeze.

"Where were you?" Cora wailed, "the men were about to leave to go find you! I thought you were in that blasted hayloft, and-"

The commotion drew the rest of the inhabitants out, and Alice stiffened and immediately began to make her way to the barn. She could not face the men, especially _him._

"Alice, where have you been?" Nathaniel queried loudly, his voice concerned, as she swept past them.

"I am back now," she murmured.

Cora would not be deterred. "Alice, I insist that you explain to me what it is that-"

Alice's fragile hold on her temper snapped.

"Cora, for once in my life, won't you leave me alone?!" she shouted, slamming the door of the barn behind her and plunging into the darkness.

Curling into the hayloft, she breathed deeply, and forced her eyes closed.

_I am safe. I am in Inverness. I am warm. I am with my mother._


End file.
